Sending a Message
by xXRisslovesyouXx
Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was just supposed to be a simple recon mission. A recon mission! Why did those always end badly? Pre-time skip. Finally finished!
1. Chapter 1

**So, I should probably be doing homework or something :|  
Pshh, yeah…**

**Anyways… On with the story!**

**Sending a Message****  
_**

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It was just supposed to be a simple recon mission. A recon mission! Why did those always end badly?  
**_**

It all started out like any other normal mission: Get in, get intel, get out.

Oh, and don't get caught.

Three out of four doesn't seem so bad until you see Robin, curled up in a bloody mass on a temporary medical bed in the bioship.

_"Where is everyone?" Aqualad's voice came from beyond the rubble. An explosion in the warehouse had momentarily stunned all within it. _

"_Here!" Miss Martian answered._

"_Behind you," Kid Flash's voice stated._

"_Present." Artemis._

"_Here," Superboy reassured. _

_Red Arrow, who had been given the tip about Ra's al Ghul doing business in Tibet in the first place, looked around. "Where's Robin?" he asked. That explosion was pretty small, but Robin had been closest to the bomb. _

"_Here. I'm fine," Robin answered. He had a small laceration on his cheek, but otherwise seemed fine. He brushed some warehouse debris out of his hair and off of his chest. "Where's Ra's?"_

"_Escaped," Aqualad stated._

"_Don't be so certain." The ominous voice came from the shadows behind Robin. He couldn't turn around fast enough and found himself in a headlock, accompanied by a rather menacing dagger pressed to his left side. "I have a message for the Detective, and it will—be—received," he emphasized. Robin yelled out as the dagger was thrust into his ribcage. With a twist of his wrist and a yank, Ra's dropped the bird at his feet._

Robin grew paler by the second, and though no one would admit it, they somehow knew that it would probably take a miracle for him to pull through.

"Rob?" Kid Flash nervously asked his best friend. He pulled his mask off, becoming Wally West. "Robin?"

"Mmm…?" Robin grunted, drowsily opening his eyes.

"Please try to stay awake. We're on our way home now, okay? Please, please stay with us!" Wally gave his best friend his best pleading face as Roy examined the injury.

Aqualad, however, had managed to contact Black Canary.

"Kaldur? Is everything alright?"

Kaldur looked from Black Canary to Robin and then back. "I cannot say that it is. Robin is hurt." He paused. "Badly."

Canary looked like she might freak out if she hadn't been trained to prepare for the worst. She calmly asked what had happened.

"We were investigating the warehouse in Tibet as planned, but when we found Ra's al Ghul, he informed us of a small bomb that he had planted to 'send his message.' Robin was going to disable it, but it went off. When the smoke had cleared, Robin was fine, but Ra's had disappeared. When we found him again, he stabbed Robin in his side, declaring that 'his message would be heard.'"

The guilt etched on the leader's face was almost too much for Black Canary to bear. She didn't even ask what "the message" was. It didn't matter right now. "How deep is the wound?"

Kaldur excused himself to find out. When he got to Robin's bedside, he found Wally next to Roy looking like he might lose his head any second, Artemis sitting on Robin's other side just as shaken, and Roy examining the injury. "How deep is the wound?" he asked.

"I don't know." Roy shook his head. "There's too much blood, and I'm afraid that if I clean it away to find out, he'll just keep bleeding more. Whatever kind of dagger Ra's was using, it was a damn good one."

Kaldur nodded and returned to Black Canary.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

Kaldur looked to Robin and then back at Canary. He shook his head. "I'm afraid we cannot tell." He looked down and closed his eyes. "There is so much blood," he whispered dejectedly.

She pursed her lips. "I'll call Batman. We'll have a bed ready for Robin at the cave. Make sure to apply pressure to his wound to try to staunch the blood flow. And Kaldur?" He looked up. "Robin will be okay. He's strong." Kaldur nodded at her and went to relay Canary's message to the others.

He hoped Canary was right.  
**_**

"Rob?" Wally called to his friend. He had sat at Robin's side a few minutes earlier.

"Mmm…"

"Robin? You need to keep putting pressure on your side. Come on, dude, you have to stay awake. Please? You're scaring us over here. Rob?"

"I…I can't anymore," his voice was breathy, barely louder than a whisper.

"It's okay, Rob, we're gonna be home in about two hours, okay? Can you hang on until then?" Wally nearly begged.

"Wally, we…we have to t…talk about this. You guys have to be prepared for…anything," Robin spit out through labored breaths. Roy decided to cut in.

"We don't need to talk. You're weak, but you've lasted this long. You'll be fine until then, I know it," he said determinedly.

"Yeah, what he said," Artemis agreed.

"Guys—"

"No, Robin. Do not be negative. You will be fine. Black Canary said so," Kaldur assured.

"I'm not being negative, I…unh… I'm being realistic. There's a difference." He winced and clutched his side.

"No!" M'gann practically shrieked. Everyone turned to her.

"Uh… Meg? Who's piloting the bioship?" Wally asked.

She ignored him and looked at Robin and rushed to his other side, her face immediately softening. "You'll be alright. I know you will." She seemed to be reassuring herself more than Robin, who had grown paler still.

"Guys, n…not to sound dramatic, but I don't know…how long I can keep this up."

Robin winced again. His wound had not stopped bleeding, but had clotted slightly.

"Robin, please…please stop talking like that," Wally pleaded. His eyes were rimmed with tears threatening to spill. Artemis, who had moved to Wally's side, put her head on his shoulder.

Conner was the only one not hovering over Robin; he had told M'gann to go check on Robin while he piloted. Truthfully, he couldn't stand just sitting around, watching one of his best friends…die. He decided he'd relieve M'gann of her piloting duties and let her help tend to Robin. He couldn't see her being able to think straight, what with her own emotions along with everyone else's pounding in her head.

It was a sad sight, honestly; there was Kaldur, who sat at Robin's feet, feeling responsible for the whole thing, no doubt, even though he knew that Robin would never blame him. Roy sat next to Kaldur on Robin's other side, and M'gann, who could barely contain herself, sat by Robin's head, softly stroking his jet black hair, sniffling lightly. Artemis, who still had her head on Wally's shoulder, was beginning to think that maybe Robin wouldn't make it this time. All thoughts were broken when Robin spoke.

"W-Wally," he said tiredly, the pain in his voice evident.

"Yeah?" Wally answered, leaning in slightly.

"My… my mask."

"It's still on."

"Yeah. That…nn… That's the problem." He grimaced.

Wally suddenly realized what Robin had been trying to say. He wanted the team to know his identity. He didn't want to fight anymore. He was giving up.

Who was Wally to deny what may possibly be his best friend's last wish?

When his mask had been removed, Robin opened his eyes. They were usually so bright and full of energy and life, but Wally had seen how they had become clouded and sullen. Artemis had noticed, too.

"Dick Grayson," she whispered, awestruck. All this time, she had thought that Dick Grayson was just another bratty rich kid. Boy was she wrong. The thinks he had been through; the things he had seen… And now, here they all were, surrounding him on his deathbed.

"Guys, I'm cold." Robin—no, Dick—shivered and began to close his eyes.

Wally finally broke down, not being able to take it anymore. He leaned over Dick's small body, pale as it was, and just cried. He cried for all of the memories they had together. He cried for the things they had gotten each other through. Most of all, he cried because, deep down, he knew that Dick had every right to die. As soon as he thought this, Wally wished he hadn't. It sounded horrible in his head. But as he thought about it more, he realized it was true. Dick done his time on this earth. He had watched his family die, taken from right in front of him. He had changed so many people, touched so many hearts… He had done more in 14 years than most people could do in a hundred. He had more than his fair share of pain, and he deserved to be reunited with his family, even if that meant that his friends would never see him again.  
**_**

**Wow, I've never written anything like this before. :/**

**This took a lot longer than I had expected. Anyways, read and review and I hope I'll have part two up soon. (Although with the way things are going now, I'll be ecstatic if I get it up before Christmas)**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I forgot to put the disclaimer up on the first part (like anyone would ever believe that I came up with Young Justice), but anyways, I don't own. If I did, it wouldn't be on hiatus. :|  
I've kept you guys waiting long enough, I guess…. :)  
Without further ado, I present: Sending a Message; Part 2!**

…**...**

"_Recognized—Batman: 02"_

Wow, Batman was fast. The team hadn't been back for five minutes and he was already here. Black Canary whirled around and opened her mouth to explain the current situation, but was instead moved aside in a frantic motion, something uncommon for Batman. She hurriedly followed him to the Med Bay, complying with his unspoken wish for silence. Since she wasn't a doctor, she had needed to bring Leslie Thompkins to the scene. As the pair sped past the Cave's living area, laden with grieving teens, Dr. Leslie was doing everything she could to keep the youngest team member alive. Would it be enough? She didn't want to think about it, but Black Canary was beginning to wonder if this, as it were, would be the last time any of them would see Robin alive again.

Not a minute later, they finally reached the Med Bay. Batman extended one arm to the doorknob, but stopped dead in his tracks, (nearly making Canary run into him in the process) and just stared at the door as though he had forgotten how to open one. He retracted his hand slightly and closed his eyes. Sensing his unwillingness to see his protégé—no, his adopted son—in any condition less than perfect, Black Canary rested her hand on his shoulder; it was the best she could think to do, considering it wasn't very often that _**the**_Batman needed comforting. He looked down at her, his lips pressed into a thin line (his way of showing appreciation), and reached for the door handle yet again.

They couldn't see Dick at first; Dr. Thompkins was hovering over him, no doubt checking his vitals and then checking them again. As they moved closer, his face came into view. His mask had been taken off, and he wasn't moving.

"Doctor Leslie—is everything alright?" Canary inquired nervously.

"Well… he appears to be unconscious. He's got a pulse, but it's weak and his breathing is shallow." She zipped around the room, collecting this, emptying that, mixing those. "Lucky for him, the wound is in a low enough region that the dagger missed his lung. It did, however, hit his liver, but that can be remedied with sutures. Unfortunately, the flight from Tibet is a long one and he only received basic first aid. I'll need to get him stitched up _now_." She practically ran out of the room, only to come back with a suturing needle and thread.

Black Canary stood in her spot, unsure of what to do. The next thing she knew, she was standing next to Bruce Wayne, who then moved swiftly to his ward's side. He took Dick's pale hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze before running his other hand through Dick's ebony hair.

While Dick's wound was being tended, Dr. Thompkins explained that she'd need to take some of his blood to cross-match it. Basically, she'd take the time to make sure that his blood was compatible with the donor blood that was stored in a small freezer in the Med Bay before administering the first unit. She told them that it could take around two hours to thaw the blood, and it would take almost another hour to complete the cross-matching. Altogether, she believed that the process would take up the next few days or so, giving Dick anywhere between 12 and 15 units of blood, depending on whether or not he started bleeding again. Dr. Thompkins finished up the stitching and excused herself to check on everything that was needed.

Bruce sighed and put his face in his hands. For the next two minutes, all that could be heard was shallow breathing and the faint, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.

"Bruce?" Canary spoke up. "What are you thinking?"

He was silent for a moment. Then he sighed again.

"I'm thinking that this is all my fault. And don't even try to tell me that I'm being too hard on myself. I was the one who let a nine-year-old fight crime in the first place. If I hadn't agreed to train him, he would have never become Robin, and he never would have gotten so seriously injured." He rubbed at his tired face.

Black Canary quietly moved towards Bruce and put a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"Bruce, I can't pretend that I don't understand where your feelings are coming from," she said calmly, "but you and I both know for a fact that Dick would never blame you."

"I _know_ that, but that doesn't change the fact that it was a stupid decision. Just look at him, Dinah! He's dying and it's all my fault." His face contorted into an expression of anguish.

"Didn't you hear Doctor Leslie? She said she'd be able to stitch him up and give him some blood! He'll be fine!"

"Dinah, it doesn't work like that! You can't just expect him to be okay! There's a little window of opportunity here, and if he isn't treated now, he could die. And there's nothing I can do to speed up this whole process. _God,_ do I hate that."

As sad as it was to admit, Dinah new Bruce was right. The next three hours were crucial in making sure that Dick's body wouldn't reject new blood. All of it was necessary. It was all part of the process.  
**…**

"Bruce?"

He grunted in response and turned to look at the voice that called his name. It was Clark Kent.

"Bruce, it's three in the morning. You should go home and get some rest." He paused before nodding towards Dick. "He'll be fine for the night; he's in good hands."

Until that moment, Bruce hadn't realized how tired he had been. He had arrived at the cave almost four hours ago, and since then Dick had received a stunning total of one unit of blood. The most he'd been able to do in that time was offer moral support. Clark was right; he wasn't doing anything useful here. He got up and replaced the cowl on his head, thanking Doctor Leslie for her hard work, and he left the Med Bay.

When he came to the living area again, he found five teenagers sleeping fitfully, and one who looked as though he thought that he'd be doing his best friend some sort of terrible injustice if he slumbered. Only when Batman was nearly passing him did he show his face. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands were clasped together. There were lines of worry on his young forehead, his nose was red, and his emerald eyes were puffy and brimming with tears. His face was paler than usual, making his freckles stand out more than they did typically, and his features were gaunt from lack of sleep. Batman sighed and approached him, putting a hand on the boy's tired shoulder.

"Get some sleep, Wally," he said gently. "He'll be alright for now." There was no sugar-coating it; the situation was what it was. Dick may get better, or he may not. Nothing was certain at this point. Wally just nodded jadedly.

"Okay," he barely whispered.

With that, the ginger teen let out a long breath and laid back in his seat and closed his eyes, seeming to fall asleep immediately.

As he left the living area, Batman found Black Canary standing by the Zeta tubes, seemingly lost in her thoughts. She was holding her arms in a way that one might if they were cold, although in this case, she looked as though she was doing it to keep herself from falling apart.

"What's this I hear about some sort of message?"

Black Canary closed her eyes and her brows knit together. There she stood for a moment, quiet.

Then, she spoke.

"When Kaldur called, he said something about Ra's al Ghul wanting for you to receive a message, but when they all got back here and I asked him what it was, he said that Ra's never gave them any message. He wants you to find him in Tibet first."

Batman scowled at the ground, then began to walk off towards a Zeta tube.

"Where are you going?" Canary asked, concerned.

"Tibet."

"Wait!" She chased after him. "You have to promise to get some rest first!"

"Sure," he grunted to shut her up.

"Batman!" She lowered her voice. "Bruce, please. You and I both know you're not going to do yourself _or_ Dick any good if you got to fight him right now. You need to rest and then think of a plan. Ra's isn't going anywhere."

He knew she was right. He inwardly groaned.

"_Recognized—Batman: 02"  
_**…**

***whew!* Part 2: Done!  
I wish I could've put this up sooner, but this part was **_**reaaalllyyyy**_** hard to write… lots of medical stuff I had to get right first. But it was all worth it! I think my favorite part of this was the Wally/Bruce moment, though. :)**

**So this will probably end up with 4 parts; I'm trying to figure out how to break up the next ones though. Hmm…. **

**So, please review if you liked it, or even if you didn't. Reviews are always good :)**

**Thanks for reading guys! Until next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So I've been horribly busy with midterms, SATs and such, and I haven't been able to keep up. But I'm here now! And (more importantly) here's "Sending a Message: Part 3"!**

**Oh, also, I hear Alfred as Michael Caine in my head (call me crazy), but I think it adds to the effect. :****P  
****…  
**Batman grunted in frustration at the fact that his attempt to enter Ra's al Ghul's lair unnoticed had failed. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by a good two dozen ninjas or so, just enough to impede his quest to find and take down the Demon's Head.

He had just dealt with the last of the ninjas, only to be greeted by slow, sarcastic clapping. He turned with a sneer.

"Yes, yes, Detective." Ra's continued his clapping. "Well done, as usual." The clapping ceased as his arms folded themselves across the embroidered chest of his robe.

"Ra's," he growled.

"Yes, Detective?" Ra's pressed.

"You know why I'm here."**  
…**

_Alfred Pennyworth stood in the doorframe of Dick Grayson's bedroom and watched his employer struggle with the news that he himself had just heard. Bruce was sitting on Dick's bed, holding a picture from an article that made its debut in a newspaper almost five years ago. He didn't need to ask, or even see the picture for that matter, to know which one it was. It was the picture of the Flying Graysons* that had been taken by Superman, er, sorry, Clark Kent, himself. It was the last picture that was taken of the family before they were dramatically torn apart almost a week later._

"_Master Bruce, I thought you were supposed to be sleeping."_

_Bruce ignored the elderly man._

"_Master Bruce?"_

"_It's all my fault, Alfred." He hung his head. "I've failed him."_

_Alfred walked over to Bruce and sat next to him on Dick's bed. _

"_Master Bruce, if I know you at all, you've already said that at least once tonight, and someone has already scolded you for thinking such a preposterous thing." He ignored Bruce's indignant grunt and continued. "You and I know very well that blaming yourself is just something you like to do to yourself every now and again. Now… I cannot tell you that Master Dick will be… alright…" He paused for a moment before continuing. "But what I can tell you is this: You most certainly have not failed him. You took that boy in when he had nowhere to go. You gave him a home and a family, not just here in the Manor, but within the Team and the League as well. You promised yourself that you would not let him grow up without someone to look up to, and that is exactly what you've done." He chuckled lightly. "And don't you dare try to argue with me." _

_Bruce looked up at Alfred, the corner of his lips curled upward ever so slightly. He looked back down to the picture in his hands. _

"_I seem to recall seeing that photograph in the paper once upon a time," Alfred continued. "Master Dick's favourite, I believe."_

"_I don't know that I've ever seen him so happy." _

_**And I don't know if I ever will. **_

_This was a thought that went unsaid._

"_Please forgive me, Master Bruce, but might I ask you," Alfred pried, "just what you would do if ever you lost Master Dick?"_

_This question shocked Bruce. What would he do? Would he… cry? Should that scare him so much? Was it the idea of losing Dick, or the thought of showing emotion about it? God, never in his life did he hate himself more than in that very moment. Why wasn't he okay with showing that kind of emotion? He loved Dick like his own son, right?_

_So why was all of this emotion so hard for him to deal with?_

_Alfred gave Bruce a knowing smile. _

"_You don't have to answer, sir. Come along, now. We'll get to the private jet and you can sleep along the way to Tibet. Just bring you suit, sir, and I'll have everything else ready for you." He paused and whispered in Bruce's ear, "How's about you take those feelings and use 'em to give Ra's al Ghul what for, eh?" He smiled again, and left without another word._  
**…**  
"Ah, yes—your _bird_." A wicked glint flashed through the evil man's eyes. Batman growled again. "Have you come to avenge his death?"

"He's not—" Batman started as he lunged at Ra's.

"Dead?" Ra's chuckled darkly, dodging him easily. "No, I suppose not." Batman landed a kick square on his chest that knocked him back. He grunted. "Not yet, anyhow."

"Why, Ra's? Why Robin? He's just a boy—"

"Why, Detective?" he repeated. "Surely you already know the answer to that one."

Batman roared as he practically threw Ra's into a wall. Ra's growled and lunged forward, punching Batman in the throat. Both men fought tooth and nail until a shrill voice stopped them.

"That's enough!"

They looked over, only to see Talia al Ghul, glaring at the two with a frown of contempt. Her gaze drifted from Batman, and fell finally upon her father.

"You…" Her eyes narrowed at him as she approached him. "You said no harm would come to the boy. You lied!"

"Daughter! Do not speak to me in such a manner!" Ra's said, furious with her. "And I never said anything of the sort!" He turned to Batman. "This is _your_ fault in the first place," he spat.

Batman visibly cringed.

"I warned you that you would not like the outcome if you did not heed my words. I _warned _you, did I not? You and the… little bird… have no right to decide the fate of the world. As with all of its other predecessors, _this_ world must crumble and start anew. I told you this, yet you simply wouldn't listen to me. I thought that perhaps I could make my message a bit clearer by attacking Robin, which, as you can see, has held true." He gave a vicious grin. "Your attempts to save your boy are as futile as your attempts to save the world from itself."

There was a small beep signaling to Batman that someone was contacting him through his communicator.

"_Bruce?"_

The voice sounded like Black Canary.

"I'm busy," he growled.

"_Bruce, it's Dick. He's … dying…"_

The silence that followed was cold and tense.

Ra's smirked knowingly. "I suppose this is the part where you flee in the hopes of saving your precious boy."

Bruce wasn't there to give an answer. He was only there long enough to hear the explosion in the background as he flew away in the Batplane.

He had to save his son.

…***Google Images "Young Justice Flying Graysons" for the picture; It's the first one. Don't own it :****P**

**Oh my gosh, what will happen next?! I guess you'll have to wait until I write the next part! ;)****  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**If It looks familiar, I don't own it.**

…**...**

The hours dragged on slowly, painfully. He didn't know how long he was in the Batplane for; he could only focus on one thing.

When he had left, Dick's condition could've gone either way; he knew that. He couldn't have helped feeling an annoying sense of hope that Dick would pull through. It had all seemed that things might actually turn out for the better.

Of course, when he left, he hadn't told Wally that. And honestly, it may have been more to keep himself from getting his hopes set high.

Yet here he was, sick to his stomach with worry for his son, who, at one point, he was almost _positive _would make it through.

Who was he kidding? This is the real world. He guessed that he deserved this for being so hopeful.

He was roused from his thoughts by a faint beeping noise, signaling that Alfred was contacting him.

"Master Bruce?"

Batman ripped the cowl from his head, but gave the butler no answer.

"Master Bruce, are you there?"

Bruce switched their conversation from audio to video, and in less than a second, the elderly butler's face appeared, riddled with lines of worry and grief.

"Master Bruce, what is your E.T.A.?"

Bruce looked at his watch. He had to take a few minutes to figure it out. His head needed clearing, and that wouldn't happen until after he knew that Dick would be okay.

"Two and a half hours, tops."

Alfred nodded before his face disappeared.

And just like that, Bruce was left to his thoughts yet again.

He thought back to the first time he had ever seen Dick. He looked over at the picture of Dick and his family, the one that Clark had taken when the troupe had been in Metropolis. It was the last picture taken of Dick and his family together before five of the six members had been torn from the poor boy, right in front of his eyes. He remembered that night as he switched the Batplane to autopilot.

The day had begun normally. He had gotten little sleep the night before, due to, as Alfred said, "late night carousing." He had gotten up, got dressed, and went to work, as per usual. When he arrived home, though, Alfred had pointed out to him that the circus was in town. Bruce recalled rolling his eyes and telling Alfred that "Batman doesn't have time for such childish nonsense." But, like always, Alfred had managed to convince him otherwise.

He went, of course, and had enjoyed himself thoroughly. He wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but he loved the popcorn and the elephants and the clowns. He and everyone else in the audience waited expectantly as the final group took center stage. They were a family of acrobats, and they were the finest in the world. Twenty seconds of their performance was enough to convince the crowd of that. Everyone in the group, from the oldest right down to the very youngest, _especially the youngest_, was awe-inspiring.

As the act went on, Bruce realized that he couldn't keep his eyes off of this boy, whose name he later learned was Dick, and he was only _nine years old_. At nine, Bruce remembered reading comics and playing on playgrounds and doing schoolwork. Dick was fantastic. He flew through the air with such fearless grace, that it almost scared Bruce.

Then came time for the final performance. The Flying Graysons would perform a death-defying aerial act that would hold its audience captive the entire time. Dick, he had noticed, sat out on the platform of the center pole. The rest of the Flying Graysons took their places.

The act was amazing, as promised. The feats performed high in the air seemed effortless, even though there was no net. Bruce wondered for the first of several times if it ever made Dick sad that he wasn't part of an act that included his entire family.

The act went on for a few minutes, but was cut short. Bruce shook his head as he remembered.

The air seemed to be sucked out of the tent. Silence. Then a scream. He did nothing but stand up, his feet glued to the floor. His eyes found Dick, who practically flew down the ladder.

The people in the tent were quickly evacuated, but Bruce remained in his spot, staring. He wasn't looking at any of the five bodies lying bloody and broken on the ground. He couldn't. He was too busy staring at Dick, the nine-year-old circus boy who had just been orphaned. Just like that.

Paramedics came and went, and soon, the GCPD arrived, Commissioner Gordon among them. Bruce watched as he tried to pull Dick off of the bodies of his family, to no avail. Dick just sat, clinging to them, covered in their blood, crying inconsolably. The Ringmaster and owner, Mr. Haly, also tried to pry him away, futilely. Dick's sobs could be heard through the entire tent. After that, everything became hazy.

Bruce remembered having to leave. He remembered coming home to Alfred, and barely changing into his night things before lying in his bed, unable to sleep. His thoughts had been filled with a child who had just lost his family. He remembered thinking about how similar the situation was to his own, and how much Dick reminded him of himself.

That had scared him.

The next day, he read in the paper that Dick was going to be put in an orphanage here in Gotham; he wasn't allowed to return to the circus with people who weren't legal guardians or blood-relatives. At least Bruce had Alfred to help him through his life. Dick's _entire family_ had just been killed, and now he was being taken from the only other family he had ever known; he had no one to stay with, no one to guide him, no one to be there for him.

Later that day, Bruce had gone to pay for the funeral of the Flying Graysons. It would not have been easy to pay for the burial of five bodies; Bruce knew that. He felt that it was the least he could've done.

The next time he saw Dick, it was several days later, at the actual funeral.

The day after, Haly's Circus was headed out of town. Bruce watched from afar as Dick hugged every single member once, twice, some even three times. As the train finally departed, Dick slumped to the ground, crying. It was then that Bruce had approached him about coming to live with him in Wayne Manor, to which Dick had tearfully agreed.

The next few years Dick, Bruce, and Alfred had spent together, building their relationship and bonding as a pretty unconventional family.

And now it was all coming to an end.

…

He took one step into the cave and stopped.

Dinah came up to him for the second time in two days, and was, also for the second time, pushed aside. Bruce half walked, half ran to the med bay where he knew Dick, and most likely everyone else, was. He paused at the door as he had done before.

No one had heard him enter. He looked around. He'd have to make his presence known.

"Out."

Everyone looked up. Tear-streaked teenaged faces stared back at him, frightened and a little awe-struck. The beaten and worn faces of some of the Justice League looked up. His eyes made contact with every other set in the room, before they narrowed and he reiterated, this time, a little harsher.

"I want all of you out."

With that, everyone scurried out of the room. Superman stopped at the door, their shoulders almost touching.

"Bruce, I—"

"I want to be alone, Clark."

Superman looked back at Dick, sighed, and nodded once before leaving. The door was shut, but Bruce could hear Wonder Woman's soft voice.

"You know how he copes with these things."

Bruce shut his eyes for a moment, listening to the light breathing of the young boy. Before he knew it, a familiar voice called him to attention.

"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Bruce looked up. He had somehow made his way over to Dick. He was holding him.

"Mmm…?"

"Master Bruce, I'm afraid Master Dick isn't looking too well."

"I—" Bruce was cut off by a faint muttering.

"Mmm… Bruce?" Dick's voice was breathy and short.

"Dick? How are you feeling?"

"…cold... and sorta numb…" he answered.

"Dick, I'm so sorry. This is all my fau—"

"No." Dick looked sternly into Bruce's eyes, squeezing his arm weakly. "No, it's not. Don't you ever say that." He paused and looked to his left. He smiled. "Hi, Alfred." Alfred smiled, tears in his eyes, and nodded.

"Master Dick."

"Dick, I—I need to tell you something." Dick looked up tiredly. "I—I don't tell you enough how important what you do is…Moreover, I don't tell you enough how important _you_ are to _me_, and for that…I'm _so_ sorry."

Dick looked up at Bruce with his bright blue eyes, those eyes that have seen too much, that have cried far too many tears of sadness, and gave him a smile. Then he buried his face in Bruce's shirt and whispered to him.

"I love you, Bruce."

"I—_I love you, too, Dick_."

Dick looked over at Alfred.

"I love you, Alfred." Alfred burst into tears.

"I love you, too, sir."

The three of them sat huddled together on one bed, before Bruce spoke up again.

"Dick, I… I'm afraid," he admitted. "I'm afraid of what will happen to you. I don't want to lose you." He looked into Dick's eyes, afraid. Dick looked back, very seriously.

"Bruce, I'm ready." There was silence. "I'm ready," he repeated, sounding more certain. "You both have given me so much." He looked over at Alfred, and then back to Bruce again. "You gave me a home to live in and food to eat," he paused, "and a family to belong to." Dick looked at the door that led to the other members of his "family." "But I miss my real family. I think I'm ready to see them again."

Bruce understood. He understood that Dick missed his family, and that no one could stop him. He understood what that felt like. But that didn't mean he was okay with it. He blinked and realized that there were tears in his eyes. Dick smiled.

"I can tell your parents that you miss them, if you want me to."

Bruce smiled back. It was all he could do.

Minutes later, Wally burst through the door, tears streaming down his cheeks. He ran into the room, and then gently sat on the edge of the bed, before he threw his arms around Dick and cried. The others gingerly stepped into the room before doing the same.

The seconds dragged on.

Then suddenly, Dick spoke. Everyone listened.

"Mmm… Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"Promise—" he started, "promise me…" he stopped again, looking for the right words. Bruce leaned in. Dick tried again. "Batman… needs Robin."

The steady beeping of the heart monitor suddenly changed as it flatlined and Dick closed his eyes for the last time. Every person in the room was crying, some silently, some not so silently. It didn't matter. Bruce didn't hear any of them. He just kept hearing Dick in his head.

"_I miss my real family."_

"_I'll tell your parents that you miss them."_

"_Batman needs a Robin."_

Bruce closed his eyes. It was over.

It was all over.

…

**A bit dramatic, but I actually cried as I wrote this.**

**I realize that the last author's note probably mislead you, and for that, I'm sorry.**

**Thanks for reading, guys, stay tuned for a short epilogue. Please, review! (Be kind!)**


	5. Epilogue

…

_**Epilogue**_

…

Bruce looked around the Batcave.

Where was he? It was nearly time for patrol and he was nowhere to be found.

"Sir," Alfred interrupted his thoughts. "Sir, are you quite sure about this?"

"He's ready, Alfred. It's time." He paused. "Gotham needs Batman—"

_And Batman needs Robin._

Suddenly, a small figure leapt from the shadows, causing Alfred to spill his tray with a clatter.

"Good heavens…!"

"You were almost late for patrol tonight," Bruce said, sternly, ignoring him.

"Alfred says that "almost" only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," the boy remarked trivially.

"Alfred says a lot of things. Now get your suit on, or I'll have to leave without you."

The boy ran off giddily to get dressed. Bruce chuckled and shook his head.

In record time, he came back, now clad in a red, black, and yellow uniform.

"Forgetting something, are we, Master Jason?" Alfred held up a black domino mask. Jason stopped and turned, then ran back to Alfred.

"Oh, yeah." He stood before the two men as he put the mask on. "So… how do I look?"

"Just like him…" Alfred muttered. Bruce smiled sadly.

"Come on." He pulled the cowl over his head. "We've got work to do."

The two left the cave in the Batmobile. They started with the usual patrol route, and happened upon some petty burglars and thieves along the way. Later into the night, things seemed to settle down, and they found themselves on top of the Wayne Enterprises building. Jason seemed to be lost in some sort of thought as he stared down at the streets of Gotham.

"Robin?" Batman called.

"…"

"…Robin?"

"Wha—huh? …Oh, sorry. I guess I'll have to get used to that. It's just that…wow. This night has been so…so _cool_. I just can't believe that I'm out here, with you; it's almost unreal. It feels kinda weird to be called Robin, like I don't belong in the suit. I… I guess I feel like I don't deserve it." He paused. "You know, some people say that Gotham isn't worth saving."

Bruce sighed. He put his hand on Jason's shoulder.

"There are some people who don't agree with what we do. They _do_ think that it's pointless, and some of them will go to extremes to try and prove it. But Gotham isn't beyond saving. Nothing is. Ever. Never forget that. You're helping to make a real difference here, Jason."

There was moment of silence.

"You won't regret picking me," he said, still staring down upon Gotham City. "You won't." He looked up at Bruce. "I'll make you proud." He looked up to the sky.

"_I'll make you both proud."_

…

**And there it is. The end of **_**Sending a Message. **_**Wow.**

**Thanks so much for reading, guys, and as always, reviews are appreciated. :)**

**Until next time!**

**-Riss**


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